


The Spirit of Christmas

by modernVictoria



Series: Quakerider [11]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Spirit of Christmas (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Christmas, Fluff, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-28 14:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17184716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/modernVictoria/pseuds/modernVictoria
Summary: Twelve days until Christmas and Daisy is sent to the 'Hollygrove Inn', a quaint little inn whose proprietor has just passed away, to get it appraised and sold as soon as possible. There's only one little flaw in her plan; Robbie Reyes, the ghost of the 'Hollygrove Inn'.





	The Spirit of Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Based on 'The Spirit of Christmas', a movie so cliché and terrible that it's actually really good lol
> 
> Thank you to @sunalsolove for betaing this first chapter and helping me make this plot not so terrible ;)

“I need you to get this inn appraised so we can start selling it before the end of the year.” Daisy’s boss barged into her office without even knocking. She was used to it.

 

“Good morning to you too,” she said as she tucked her hair behind her ears, lifting her head from her laptop where she was finishing the paperwork for a case she had just won.

 

“Can you?” He abruptly stood still in the middle of her office, watching her with intent eyes.

 

“It’s almost Christmas,” Daisy said, resuming her work.

 

“That’s why I’m asking you.”

 

“Because I never have any plans?”

 

Jeffrey Mace shook his head. “That’s extra. I’m asking you since you’re my best lawyer.”

 

“You need your best lawyer to get a house appraised?” She stopped typing on her laptop once again, curiosity taking the best of her.

 

“An inn,” Jeffrey corrected her, “Haunted, supposedly. The owner, one Lucy Reyes, passed away last week. She has no living relatives so it’s going to the Reyes fund. They want to sell it before getting hit by taxes.”

 

A smile appeared on Daisy’s face. “A haunted inn?” She repeated amused.

 

“45 percent of the population still believes in ghosts. 100 percent of our appraisers do too.” Her boss explained, desperation glinting in his eyes. “Look, it’s a simple job. I’ve contacted another appraiser, you’ll just have to meet him at the inn, fill in the paperwork and it’s done.”

 

He inched closer to her desk, pulling the seat she had for clients underneath him. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone, but the senior associate is retiring. They’re searching for someone to replace him.” Daisy’s eyes lit up with ambition. Mace added to spark the fire: “This job could get you promoted.”

 

She rose up from her seat, followed by Mace. Eagerly, she nodded. “I’ll do it!”

 

“I knew I could count on you.”

 

* * *

 

Riding through the quaint town of Stowe, Daisy watched through her windshields the road in front of her. Her windscreen wipers were busy keeping her view of the road clear from the falling snow. She glanced at her phone, sticking to her dashboard, as to not miss a turn. Her GPS told her to turn into a long driveway, which she did after looking in the rearview mirror. There was no one, she had left the small but lively little town behind her and landed in a deserted place, the white blanket of snow making the landscape even more desolate. She rode up to the inn, passing by a sign that read ‘Hollygrove Inn’ rocking lightly in the wind.

 

The driveway was pretty long, Daisy noticed. It was probably what made the inn so charming; a secluded escape from the world.

 

When she finally arrived at the inn, the first thing she noticed was the Christmas lights enveloping the five great white columns holding the roof above the porch up. The house was completely white, save for the stained-glass windows of the front door, and seemed to disappear in the thick blanket of snow. Daisy took the Colonial-era house in but was shaken from her daydreams when she saw someone leaving the house in a hurry, terror etched onto his face.

 

Rolling her window down, she called to him- he must’ve been the appraiser Jeffrey had sent- but he only answered with a horrified expression and scurried faster to his car. Daisy quickly rolled her windows back up and pushed her car door open.

 

“Wait!” She called after him, but he slammed his door shut in front of her, pushing his finger down on the door lock before she could open it.

 

“Wait!” She called out again, slamming her hand onto his window, but he drove away swiftly.  She ran after him for a few feet, before acknowledging that it would be futile; he was already well down the road.

 

“Wha-?” She breathed out exasperated as she pulled her pink beanie off her head. Following the car with her eyes, she gazed upon the wonderful view this spot offered of Stowe. She huffed in irritation once more, before spinning around, facing the inn that was causing her so much trouble already.

 

“Easy job, my ass,” she grumbled to the silence, “How will I get this house appraised without an appraiser?”

 

She locked her car and stomped over to the inn, kicking the snow off her boots on the porch before knocking on the door. She didn’t even touch it and the door creaked open.

 

“Seriously? A haunted inn?” She asked the universe.

 

She stepped inside and was met by the warmth of the wooden interior. At the end of the hallway, she spied a grand piano, memories of her sitting next to her father while he played flooded her mind, but she quickly pushed them back into the dark corners they came from.

 

“Hello?” Daisy called out. She wandered further into the inn, walking into what she presumed would be the lounge. A great fireplace harboured a smouldering fire. But it was what was atop the mantelpiece that caught Daisy’s eye. An old framed picture rested there. On it stood a man, his gaze piercing the camera.

 

“Hello,” a voice sounded behind her. Daisy whirled around, clutching the picture frame to her chest.

 

“How can I help you?” A man- in his early fifties, laughing wrinkles framing his eyes -asked her.

 

“I’m here to get the paperwork done for the house appraisal.” She said hesitantly.

 

“I’m afraid you just missed Matthew.”

 

“I saw him.” Daisy eyed the stranger up and down. “He left in quite a hurry.”

 

“Probably the ghost scared him away.”

 

“The ghost?” The tension in Daisy’s shoulders left as she dropped them and she returned the picture to its original spot.

 

“Though Robbie has never hurt anyone. Not that I know of anyway.”

 

“So you’re on a first name basis with the ghost, huh?” Daisy asked rhetorically, already annoyed by the fact that this supposed “ghost” was causing her so many problems.

 

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

 

The man offered his hand, which she shook. “My name is Phillip Coulson, I’m the manager of this inn.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Mrs. Reyes, may God rest her soul, was only the owner of this inn, I took care of it.”

 

“Then you know she hasn’t any living relatives. This inn is now the property of the Reyes fund.”

 

Phillip breathed in deeply, touching the marble mantel with the tips of his fingers. “I know.” He said sadly. Daisy felt bad, it was obvious how much this inn meant to the man.

 

“I’ll call for a new appraiser first thing in the morning.” Daisy changed the subject.

 

“Where are you staying, if I may ask?”

 

“Well, this is an inn. I figured I would stay here?”

 

“Impossible,” Phillip shook his head, “The inn always closes from the thirteenth to the twenty-sixth.”

 

“It’s only for one night.” She argued back.

 

“I’ve sent the staff home, there wouldn’t be anybody here!” He shot back.

 

“I’m a big girl.”

 

“I’m leaving too, the inn would be locked.”

 

Daisy grinned smugly, fishing the keys of the inn from her pocket. “Luckily, I have a copy of the keys then, since it’s the property of the fund.”

 

“You’re tenacious, aren’t you?” A small smile crept onto his face.

 

Daisy bobbed her head up and down. “That’s why they sent me.” She smiled in return. “Why would you close in high season?” Curiosity got the best of her once again.

 

His face softened. “Tradition,” he paused, before shaking his head, “I’ll leave you to to get settled then. Don’t forget to enable the alarm system at night.”

 

Shaking her head, Daisy reassured him. “There won’t be any problem!”

 

“Not sure about that,” Phillip muttered to himself, quietly enough so Daisy didn’t hear.

 

* * *

 

She watched through the window of her room how Phillip threw his bags into his pickup. After a nice dinner he had cooked for the both of them, he had told her he had to be on his way. She bade him farewell and set off herself, bag in her hand, upstairs to find a room. She had settled for a comfortable room at the end of the upstairs hallway. It offered a view of the driveway, and the lit up town behind it.

 

The snow reflected the moonlight and the town lights, bathing the world in an eerie bluish light. Her gaze snapped back to Phillip when he slammed his car door shut. He gazed melancholically toward the inn before stepping into his car and driving away.

 

The house fell silent. Only the grandfather clock from downstairs ticked slightly, filling the whole inn with a certain tension. Daisy kept staring out the window, as she searched Jeffrey’s cell number in her contact list. Calling him, Daisy turned to her room, settling herself on her bed.

 

“So your appraiser was a bust,” she started as soon as she heard him pick up, “I’m getting back to Boston to get a new one.” Daisy caressed the comforter she was sitting on absentmindedly. It was soft. “One who’s not caught up in the middle of all those ghost stories.”

 

“Thank you, Daisy.”

 

“How are the Bahamas?”

 

“Warm. How is Vermont?”

 

“Cold.”

 

She envied her boss a little. As much as she loved her work, Daisy wanted to escape her life too sometimes and enjoy cocktails at the beach while everyone back in Boston would be freezing their butts off.

 

“I don’t want to worry about Lucy Reyes while I’m on vacation, Daisy.” He stated.

 

“You won’t,” she tried to ease him, “I’m handling it!”

 

“I’m counting on you!”

 

“Yes, thank you.” She said tiredly, hanging up.

 

After brushing her teeth and changing into her pajamas, Daisy rushed downstairs, her phone light clutched in her hands, and ticked the activation code into the alarm system. When the small light turned green, telling the alarm was activated, Daisy sprinted back upstairs and into her bed, where she dozed off in a matter of seconds.

 

 

> _“You’re wonderful,” Lincoln said, putting his tableware down. His fork clinked with the edge of his plate, the sound adding to the already loud restaurant they were currently having dinner at._
> 
>  
> 
> _Daisy looked up from her own empty plate, her dessert already on its way to her stomach. She elegantly dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin, then placed it next to her plate._
> 
>  
> 
> _“And I’m lucky to be with you,” he continued. Daisy’s eyebrows shot up, afraid of where this conversation may end._
> 
>  
> 
> _“But I don’t think this is working out,” Lincoln finished, his face scrunched in fear of her response. Slouching down in her chair, Daisy let out a long relieved sigh. Surprise spread on Lincoln’s face._
> 
>  
> 
> _“It’s me right?” Daisy asked. “I’m just not open for love?”_
> 
>  
> 
> _“I never said that,” Lincoln defended himself._
> 
>  
> 
> _“No. But Myles did.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _“And Grant called me his phantom girlfriend,” Daisy said, putting a finger to her chin, thinking back to all her past boyfriends. “It was cute,” she nodded, “until it wasn’t.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _“You heard this before?” Lincoln asked._
> 
>  
> 
> _Daisy hummed, then took a sip of her wine. “Yeah, absolutely. Look I’m not going to pretend I feel something I don’t so...” She trailed off_
> 
>  
> 
> _Lincoln nodded slowly, his mouth open in amazement._
> 
>  
> 
> _“Are you going to finish that?” She pointed to Lincoln’s tiramisu, still untouched in front of him. In one swift motion, she leaned forward and took a forkful of his dessert, putting it in her mouth and humming in appreciation. Lincoln stayed still, and Daisy took advantage of it to pull his plate to her, finishing his dessert._

 

A sudden sound jolted her awake. The room was dark. Daisy scrambled for her phone on her nightstand. She pushed onto the home-button and the screen lit up, telling her it was past midnight. Looking around the room, her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, but she noticed nothing weird and out of place.

 

Her door flew open.

 

Daisy jumped, taking her phone but it fell to the floor. She quickly grasped it in her hands and enabled her phone light. Pulling the covers from her, she slid out of her bed, making sure to make as little sound as possible. Descending the stairs, Daisy scanned her surroundings for shadows. Turning into the hallway, she whirled around at the sound of a floorboard creaking behind her. Her fist connected with something solid, before she stumbled backward into a bookcase. A vase, resting on top of it, tipped over and plummeted down onto her head. The silhouette of a face was the last thing she saw before her vision went dark.

 

Light flooded her eyelids. Daisy blinked a few times before completely opening her eyes. She laid beneath a colorful plaid and her phone laid on the low table in front of her. A crack had formed in what she hoped was her screen protector.

 

Sitting up, the back of her head started throbbing. She reached for it with her fingers, feeling sore skin covering a bump. Memories of last night entered her mind and that's when Daisy became aware of the piano being played. Though it sounded a little off, Daisy could clearly make out the melody of ‘12 days of Christmas’. Without thinking twice, her feet led her to the origin of the sound.

 

She walked upon a man sitting at the piano, his back to her. As if he sensed her, his fingers doubted to continue playing, and instead, he turned to her. She was struck with how handsome he looked for an intruder. He was wearing a button-up paired with a tie and waistcoat.

 

“How is your head?” He asked, still sitting.

 

“Fine.” Daisy leaned into the doorframe.

 

“Then you can leave.”

 

Crossing her arms, Daisy straightened her back. “I’m not leaving. You’re the trespasser!”

 

“How can I trespass on my own property?” He rose up from his seat, gaining a head in length.

 

“This inn belongs to the Reyes fund. Leave or I’ll call the sheriff!”

 

He watched her, his jaw set and his brow quirked in frustration. He took a few steps forward, bending slightly and lifted her out of the blue onto his shoulders. He walked with her outside, dumping her onto the snow-covered porch. Then as quick as he picked her up, he walked inside again, locking the door behind him.

 

“Hey!” Daisy slammed her palm on the stained glass door window. Then she cursed, reminding herself not to break the property. She took a few steps back, taking out her phone to call the sheriff when the man returned. He opened the door and threw the same plaid she woke up into at her. He slammed it shut again and disappeared inside the house. She dialed the sheriff’s number and waited outside, snuggled into the plaid.

 

A few minutes later, the sheriff’s car appeared onto the driveway.

 

“Sheriff Hunter, what seems to be the problem?” He tipped his hat to her as he climbed onto the porch

 

After telling him what had happened, they entered the house. He did a quick search of the inn, while Daisy waited downstairs. As she warmed back up, she folded the plaid and placed it back on the sofa she had slept onto. Hunter descended the stairs after a couple of minutes, shaking his head.

 

“Must’ve been a drifter, hiding from the cold. As soon as he saw my car, must’ve fled through the back.”

 

“He was dressed awfully nice for a drifter. He wore a tie.”

 

Hunter shrugged his shoulders, by the look of his face he was at a loss. “Some do. Look, all I can do now is check the area.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Don’t forget to put on the alarm system,” Hunter smiled kindly.

 

“I did!” Daisy vindicated. “Well, at least I think I did.” She started to doubt her actions, maybe all of it was just an effect of her possible concussion.

 

With that, Hunter left. Daisy ticked the code in the alarm system and walked to the kitchen. On her way, she passed a frame hanging on the hallway wall. Inside was a picture of the man she had seen and a newspaper article, telling about the death of Robbie Reyes.

 

“It’s all in my head,” she told herself as she went upstairs. But as she walked into her bedroom, she locked the door. Better be safe than sorry, she thought. She stepped into her bathroom, taking her brush and combing her short hair when she heard a sound coming from the bedroom. Carefully, she treaded to the door, peering outside. He was in her bedroom, leaning onto the end of her bed. She jumped.

 

“I do not want to hurt you. I just want my solitude and that is paired with your departure.”

 

Daisy scrambled hurriedly for her phone, jumped back into the bathroom, slamming the door shut with a loud bang. After locking the door, she called the Sheriff.

 

A few minutes later, someone knocked on the door. Daisy opened it, looking sheepishly at Hunter wearing a disappointed look on his face. They descended the stairs together, while Hunter assured her again that no one was in the house.

 

“He was in my room,” she defended herself.

 

“How is your head?” he recalled Daisy telling him how a vase had struck her from above.

 

“I’m not hallucinating!”

 

“Just turn on the alarm system this time,” he said, as he walked outside, tipping his hat to bid her goodbye.

 

“I did!” exasperated she closed the door behind the sheriff and turned back to the alarm. Punching the code in, she watched intently as the light turned green. Then she walked toward the kitchen.

 

“I do know the code.”

 

Daisy whirled around. Robbie was fiddling with the alarm system, disabling it. Knitting her eyebrows together, Daisy glared at him.

 

“Are you in my head?”

 

“I don’t know. You tell me,” he grinned cockily, “It’s your head.”

 

He turned the corner into the lounge and Daisy followed him, but as soon as she rounded the corner, he was nowhere to be seen.

 

“Oh come on!” She yelled in irritation. “Stop doing that!”

 

“First meeting did not go so well, I presume?”

 

She turned to see Phillip standing in the entry, hanging his wet coat on a hanger.

 

“Could you please stop doing that?”

 

At Phillip’s confused expression, she added: “Appearing out of nowhere? The both of you?”

 

“I came from outside.” He explained.

 

“I appear out of nowhere.” Robbie’s voice sounded behind her. With a loud huff, Daisy whipped her face to him, glaring daggers.

 

“I have a possible concussion, so if someone would give me an explanation for,” she motioned her arms in circles, “all of this, that would be nice.”

 

“He’s a ghost,” Phillip said weakly.

 

“I’m not buying the whole ghost thing! Last I checked, you can’t touch ghosts.” In one big step, Daisy moved next to Robbie, taking his right arm with her hand. He froze, it had been a long time since someone had touched him, let alone talk to him. He had told himself he preferred his solitude, but the more he spent time with Daisy and the vibrant life she emitted, the more he thought that he had only fooled himself.

 

Daisy let go of his arm after proving her point to Phillip. A shiver ran through him at the sudden coldness.

 

“Should we tell her?”

 

“Tell me what?”

 

“Robbie only takes his human form for twelve days, from the thirteenth to the twenty-fifth.”

 

“And I’m just supposed to believe that?” Daisy huffed incredulously.

 

“I’ll prove it to you,” he said as he offered his hand. Daisy looked at him, then at Phillip, who nodded slightly. Hesitantly she placed her hand in his. He pulled her to the garden, where he led her to four pillars.

 

“I’m limited to the edges of this property,” he explained as he turned to her, their hands still interlocked. He stood still for a few seconds, staring at her silently, but then he took a step backward and disappeared. Daisy stumbled backward at the loss of his grip but quickly regained her footing despite the slippery snow. She walked to where Robbie was standing merely a few seconds ago, flailing her hands around to make sure there was nothing there.

 

“Because invisibility is so much more logical than being a ghost…” Daisy reprimanded herself. Then what had happened dawned on her: Robbie’s a ghost. She ran back to the inn and threw the door open. There she was met by Robbie sitting on the stairs, calmly eating an apple.

 

“Now do you believe me?” He asked between two bites.

 

“Yes, but if you think I’m leaving now, you’re wrong!”

 

Robbie stopped chewing and sighed disappointedly, letting his shoulders sag. He pushed himself off the stairs and followed Daisy into the kitchen where she started frying Phillip for answers. Robbie opened the fridge, studied the contents and took out a piece of the chicken Daisy and Phillip had eaten together the evening before. He sauntered to the dining room, plopped down onto a chair and started eating.

 

“He sure eats a lot for a ghost,” Daisy said, leaning onto the kitchen doorframe.

 

Phillip stood next to her, crossing his arms. “He says it’s more about the sensation.”

 

They both tilted their head to the side, studying Robbie closely.

 

“I can hear you,” he muttered between two mouthfuls.

 

“What happened?” Daisy asked Phillip. The older man shook his head.

 

“I don’t know. I’ve never talked to him, save for our very first interaction many years ago.”

 

“I can still hear you.” Robbie looked up from his plate, glaring at the both of them.

 

“What happened?” Daisy directed her question to Robbie, stepping closer to him.

 

He wiped his mouth with a napkin, then threw it on the table. Finished with his meal, he took his plate and walked into the kitchen, placing it gently into the kitchen sink.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

Moving to the living room, he set himself into an armchair, took the book lying on the side-table and started reading. Not even five seconds later, Daisy appeared in front of him.

 

“Don’t you want to know what happened?”

 

“Of course, but I don’t remember a thing.”

 

“Maybe we need to figure out how you died? Maybe it’ll help you move on. Don’t you want to move on?”

 

Placing his index finger on the page he was currently at, he closed the book and rested it on his lap.

 

“More than you know.”

 

“Then I’ll help you, starting tomorrow,” Daisy said as she turned away, ready to go upstairs and crash into her bed, the last twelve hours had taken their toll on her. She remembered something suddenly.

 

“Don’t come into my room.”

 

“I would not.”

 

She spun towards him; he was still sitting calmly in the armchair.

 

“You did.”

 

“I would not now.”

 

Satisfied with his response, she nodded.

 

“What would your husband say about you being here all alone?”

 

“I don’t have one.”

 

“Your beau then?” His brow quirked questioningly.

 

“Don’t have one of those either.”

 

He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Daisy.

 

“And if you start telling me I’m an old single maiden, it will not end well for you.”

 

Robbie rubbed his jaw, a small smile playing on his lips. The memory of her fist colliding with his face before a vase fell down on her head resurfaced, but as she studied his jaw, she saw no indication that he had been hit. Maybe he had ghost powers preventing him from getting hurt. Daisy quickly tossed that thought aside, she wasn’t going to start pondering over ghost physics; that was one step too far.

 

“Times have changed!”

 

She crossed her arms, standing defensively opposite him.

 

“People don’t fall in love?”

 

“Some do. I haven’t.” She mulled over her words for a moment. “Goodnight.”

 

With that, she left his sight, and the world seemed bleaker again to Robbie.

**Author's Note:**

> This work has been in my drafts for a very long time - I'm terrible at finishing things I've started - so I'm publishing it unfinished before the Holidays are over and I have to wait a whole year to finally publish it.


End file.
